No one notices me slip in, but if anyone bothers to look down they’ll get a prime view of my bunny slippers and know I’m not supposed to be here. I shuffle through the living room, then the kitchen, scanning for a familiar face. A few party-goers give me odd looks, but most ignore me.
The balcony or the back bedroom are the only places left to check. The bedroom is a hard no, so balcony it is.
It takes me what feels like forever to push through the crowd, but finally I spot my neighbor, blonde buzz cut, sitting outside.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I slide the door open and step out, shutting it behind me. Three sets of eyes land on me. Neighbor guy and two friends all give me curious stares.
“Hey! Aren’t you in 3B?” Neighbor guy asks. He takes a long drag of what I now realize is not a cigarette. Secondhand smoke hitsmy throat like a punch. I cough hard enough to double over.
“Oh, baby! You’re cute.” One of his friends chuckles, watching my struggle.
I straighten. “Thanks. I think.” I wave the smoke away. “Yeah. So, I live next door. Hate to be that person, but can you maybe turn the music down?”
“Oh, shit! My bad, girl. I gotcha.” He flicks the joint out over the balcony and sticks out a hand. “I’m Pauly, by the way.”
I shake it, wary. “Lina.”
He grins. “Have a seat, Lina.” He gestures to a plastic chair. “Beer?”
“Sure.” I don’t really want one but refusing seems impolite.
Pauly pulls a cold bottle from the cooler and passes it to me. I pop the cap and take a big sip. If you can’t beat ‘em…
The guys return to their conversation. The topic sounds… questionable. My anxiety kicks up. I’m not a snitch, but they don’t know that. Maybe they’re testing me. Maybe I’ll end up in a dumpster. Stranger things have happened.
“Sorry about that,” Pauly says suddenly, pulling me out of my spiral. “So, what’s a good girl like you doing living in a shithole like this?”
I take another sip and shrug. “Maybe I like shitholes.”
Pauly laughs. “Yeah, and I’m a priest. No… you’re hiding from something. Or someone. I can tell.”
My eyes go wide before I can stop it. He points at me. “Ah-ha! I knew it.” He smirks. “No worries, girl. Anyone bothers you… ex? Stalker? You tell me. Me and my boys’ll handle it.”
I blink. “Why would you offer that?”
He leans back. “Simple. We watch out for you, you watch out for us.” He holds out his hand. “Phone.”
Against my better judgment, I give it to him. He typessomething in and hands it back.
“There. Now you’ve got my number. I texted myself, so I’ve got yours. You see any cops or weirdos hanging around, text me. Cool?”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Sweet. Sorry again about the noise. You’re welcome to stay, but we’ll wrap it soon.”
They head back inside. I stay a few more minutes on the balcony, finishing my beer. When I check my phone, I see he added himself as P-Dawg.
What the hell just happened? I think I accidentally joined the neighborhood drug dealer’s friend circle.
∞∞∞
Four months later…
“Goddammit, Pauly! Open up!”
I pound on his door. I’ve texted six times with no response. It’s before noon, so I know he’s home. He never leaves before then.
I hear movement. Finally, the door cracks open. He’s standing there in boxers, hair a mess.
